


On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

by Persiflage



Series: The Ways You Said 'I Love You' [2]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Episode: s19e07 The Kill List, F/F, Holding Hands, Kissing, Missing Scene, Newly established relationship, Post - The Kill List, Prompt Fic, Romantic Fluff, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Missing scene for after S19E07 - The Kill List. Fluff and nonsense.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Series: The Ways You Said 'I Love You' [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750207
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beezarre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beezarre/gifts).



> From the list of prompts _The Ways You Said 'I Love You'_. Just a soft bit of romantic fluff and nonsense.

“You know we could just go to Albie’s,” Serena says as she follows Bernie out to her sports car.

Bernie snorts. “Serena, we go to Albie’s practically every night when we’re at work. We now have four whole days off, so I, for one, do not want to go to Albie’s where we would be guaranteed to run into any number of our colleagues.” She looks over the roof of the car and smirks. “Get in the car, Campbell, and stop arguing or I’ll make sure you only get white wine for lunch.”

Serena gives her a scandalised look. “You would not!”

“Oh, I totally would, Fräulein. So, are you getting in the car, or–”

Serena doesn’t wait for Bernie to finish the question; she simply pulls open the passenger door and climbs in. She puts her seatbelt on and tries to remember why she was arguing against going for a drive out to a country pub for lunch. Oh yes, she was reluctant to leave the house and the joys of spending lots of time in bed with Berenice bloody Wolfe, newly returned from Kiev, and determined to make up for her absence in every way possible – most of those ways involving an almost obscene number of orgasms for Serena. 

Bernie folds herself into the driver’s seat, and Serena marvels once again that she manages to fit her absurdly long legs into this small car, then she fastens her seatbelt before giving Serena an expectant look.

“Ready?”

“Drive,” Serena says.

Bernie smirks, throws her a sloppy salute, then starts the car and drives.

Half an hour later she pulls the car into a pub carpark, somewhere Serena’s never been on the outskirts of Holby. They climb out of the car, and as they walk across the car park, Serena tangles her fingers together with Bernie’s until she turns her hand and slots their fingers together so they’re properly holding hands.

“Alright?” Bernie asks, and Serena nods, feeling happy, really, properly happy as she hasn’t done for quite some time. 

She moves closer to Bernie, allowing their arms and shoulders to brush, and her lover turns her head and leans in to brush their lips together in the briefest of kisses.

“I love you.” Bernie seems to breathe the words, rather than saying them, and as Serena looks at her the sun breaks out from behind the clouds where it’s been lurking all morning, and seems to spotlight Bernie alone so that her blonde hair glows like a halo. On the one hand that idea’s absurd, because Bernie is no angel – she’s an all-too-fallible human being, as her flight to Kiev had demonstrated, but on the other hand, Bernie feels a bit like her guardian angel, flight to Kiev notwithstanding – she’s always had Serena’s back, she’s brilliant with Jason, and she’s a warm, caring human being.

“My god, one declaration of my feelings for you and I think I broke you!” Bernie’s comical look of dismay sends Serena into a peal of laughter which, she concedes will probably only further serve to convince Bernie that Serena’s been broken. 

She tugs the blonde closer and wraps her arms around her. “Not broken, darling, I promise you.” She kisses her, far too unchastely given the very public place they’re in. “The sun came out and hit you like a spotlight, and – well, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just say I got lost in my thoughts for a moment.”

“A moment?” Bernie says with a snort. “Several minutes. I actually asked you if you wanted me to fetch you a bottle of Shiraz, and you Did. Not. Answer.”

Serena chuckles. “You did not.”

“I absolutely did,” Bernie says with a sweet sincerity that warms Serena down to her toes. She keeps her left arm wrapped around her, then lifts her right to card through the waves of her blonde hair. 

“Your hair is so soft,” she murmurs. “I love touching it.”

It’s Bernie’s turn to chuckle. “Don’t think I hadn’t noticed that, Fräulein.” 

“Do you mind?”

Bernie snorts again. “Mind? It’s all I can do not to bloody purr at you when you do that.”

That makes Serena chuckle again. “You make me very happy,” she says softly, nuzzling her nose against Bernie.

“Likewise, love.” Bernie brushes their lips together again, then asks, “Mind if we go and eat? I’m ravenous thanks to our morning exercise.”

Serena raises an eyebrow. “Not like you to be so coy.”

“Well we _are_ in a public place. I know it’s a Tuesday late in the year, so not exactly the height of the tourist season, but still.”

“Yes, you’re right. Let’s go and eat.”

“But any time you want to play with my hair, Campbell, you should feel free.” Bernie leans in even closer. “In certain instances, I don’t even mind if you pull it, just a bit.”

Serena feels a rush of heat flood through her body at the implications of Bernie’s words, just as the woman in question steps away and resumes her walk towards the pub again. 

She turns to look back at Serena, eyes bright with mirth, one hand held out towards her, wiggling her fingers. Her hair is bright in the afternoon sunlight, and yes, it does look like a halo. Berenice Griselda Wolfe might be neither angel nor saint, but she is Serena’s and come what may, that matters far more.


End file.
